Page 39 of The Earl's Bluestocking Bride
Amelia’s chest tightened. Logically, she knew that the earl likely had no shortage of female company and that he would continue to enjoy others after they were wed. For some reason, the knowledge made her uncomfortable, but she would simply have to get used to it.
She bit her lip. “I’ve written the earl a note, asking for him to grant me a private interview after we visit the museum tomorrow. Can you please arrange to have it delivered?”
“Of course, miss. I’ll make sure he receives it.”
CHAPTER 10
Andrew’s mindwas alive with curiosity as he arrived outside the Harts’ residence. When Boden had informed him that he’d received a note from Miss Hart, he’d been surprised. After reading her brief request to meet with him in private, he’d become intrigued.
This was not the sort of thing unmarried misses did. It wasn’t the behavior he’d come to expect. But then, when it came to Miss Hart, perhaps he ought not to have any expectations. After all, she seemed to flout them at every turn.
Regardless of that, he’d spent most of last night and this morning pondering what the chit was up to. Thinking about that prevented him from dwelling on the unfortunate news he’d received last night.
The ship Mr. Smith had supposedly boarded had docked in Spain. Officers of the law had awaited him, but he hadn’t disembarked, and upon searching the ship, they’d found no sign of him.
Mr. Smith had slipped away, taking the last of Andrew’s fortune with him.
The bastard.
Yes, it was infinitely preferable to concentrate on MissHart than on the sorry state of his financial affairs. He’d yet to break the news to his mother and sister, and he dreaded having to do so. He knew that Kate, especially, still clung to hope.
“My lord?”
Andrew jerked into motion. Good God, how long had he been sitting there, staring into space?
He stepped briskly out of the carriage, marched up to the Harts’ front door, and rapped loudly on the wood. The door opened to reveal the potbellied butler.
Andrew passed him a calling card. “The Earl of Longley for Miss Hart.”
“Just a moment, my lord.”
The butler strode through the foyer and vanished through a door on the other side. Andrew hovered awkwardly in the open doorway until he returned with Miss Hart and her maid in tow. Blessedly, Mrs. Hart was nowhere to be seen.
He bowed and took Miss Hart’s hand. “You look especially fetching today.”
Once again, she was wearing a dress of simple design. It was a muted shade of blue and paired well with the sapphire resting at the base of her throat. Attraction sizzled low in his gut. If they married, he would very much enjoy kissing the length of her long, pale neck and sucking marks onto her delicate collarbone.
He drew in a shallow breath.
Get a grip.
He forced himself to lift his eyes to her face, only to see she was frowning. He thought back over his words. All he’d said was that she looked fetching. He didn’t know how that could have upset her. Perhaps something else was on her mind.
“Are you looking forward to the exhibit?” he asked, drawing her alongside him and out the door.
“Yes, thank you.”
Now, it was his turn to frown. Something was definitely not right with her. On Friday, she’d been excited to learn and see everything she could. What had changed between then and now?
He assisted her into the carriage, did the same for her maid, and got in himself. Rather than leaving him the seat beside her, as she’d done when they visited Hyde Park, she’d sat alongside Mary, forcing him to take the bench opposite.
“How much do you know about it?” he asked.
“A little. Not much.”
He grimaced. She wasn’t giving him a lot to work with. He’d had the impression that she was the sort of person who researched everything ahead of time, but if that was the case, she didn’t seem inclined to share.
She didn’t even seem to want to engage with him. She was staring ahead. Not at him, but somewhere above and to the left of his shoulder.
